


Alone

by MysticPuma



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: AO3 1 Million, F/M, Loneliness, M/M, Multiple Relationships, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticPuma/pseuds/MysticPuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 5 times Douglas Richardson wanted to be alone on Valentine's Day, and the one time he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. -5

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fanfic sitting in my little fanfiction book for a while now, and I thought since it was about Valentine's Day it wa about time it saw the light :)  
> I'll upload a chapter a day I believe (but please don't quote me on that I'm a little busy at the moment)

-5

Valentine’s Day had come around again. Douglas was fifteen years old, in his last year of O-levels. It was a Saturday. Good. No chance of humiliation or mockery at school for not having a girlfriend yet. He wasn’t the only one, by any means, but it still depressed him to watch his friends give chocolates, or anonymous messages to the girls they liked. Douglas didn’t even like anyone…

Okay, that was a lie, but he could hardly give chocolates to his closest friend who was dating a most popular girl in school… Douglas had known for about a year now that he was bisexual, but he’d never seen that coming.

Douglas curled further into his warm bed, pulling the sheets over his head, which he buried deeper into his pillow. It wasn’t cold. In fact, it was sunny and mild outside. But Douglas didn’t want to face this day at all. For all his confidence and swagger, this was the one day Douglas just wanted to curl up and blink out of existence.

Unfortunately, his parents had very different ideas…

He heard the curtains open and cringed. No… please, no. He could already feel the sun streaming onto his cocoon and he groaned.

“Come on, Dougie!” came his mother’s shrill voice. On any other day, Douglas would find that voice smooth and loving… But to his ears now, which had grown accustomed to the silent darkness his cocoon provided, it was unwelcome. Too cheerful, too bright and far too loud.

The covers were thrown mercilessly from his body, with a flourish and he groaned again, a loud, whiny noise, as he groped the empty air, searching for the sheets with his eyes tightly shut against the garish light of the sun. “Dougie” – god, he hated that nickname – “get up!”

“Unng…” Douglas groaned. “’ut ti’ if it?” he mumbled into his pillow. His mother still understood him though.

“It’s nearly noon! Up! We have something for you!” she chirped. Douglas groaned again, but was cut up as he was pulled by the arm and sent crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“Mum!” he growled, but she just smiled down at him and left the room. “God, I hate you sometimes…” Douglas muttered venomously. He pushed himself up slowly and sat for a moment, letting his bod slowly wake up. He wasn’t a morning person… Okay, he wasn’t a ‘getting up’ person, it was barely morning now.  He stood with a heavy sigh, opened his wardrobe and grabbed the first top and jeans he saw, pulling them on roughly as he left the room.

He trudged down the stairs, his eyes still half-closed; they’d got rather used to being shut. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the strange crystals that he knew only one name for – sleep. Such an inviting word to describe the painful consequence of a more comforting action.

“Ah! Douglas! About time you got up!” his Father’s voice boomed. Douglas scowled at him, but he just grinned… It was annoying. His mother bounded over. She always had too much energy; it made Douglas cringe. She pushed an envelope and a small red bag into his hands. Both were absolutely covered in gaudy pink hearts and Douglas’ mouth fell open in horror at the sight of such hideous wrapping. He looked up slowly to meet the excited eyes of his mother. She was beaming.

“Open them, sweet-heart!” she cried.

“Mum. Don’t you think I’m a bit old for my valentine’s gifts to be from my parents…?” Douglas muttered. Her smile did not falter.

“Oh, silly boy! That’s when you’re sixteen, or if you have a girlfriend! And since you have ticker neither box, we get to do this one last time!” she exclaimed gleefully. Douglas smiled nervously, though it was perhaps more of a grimace, and uttered a tired chuckle. _Oh god…_ he thought as he opened the card. _Oh GOD._

It was small and white, with a small bear drawn on (obviously his mother’s handy-work). In its paw, the bear held a heart-shaped balloon. The bear was looking up the balloon sadly and Douglas had to use all his will-power to refrain from punching his mother in the face as he read the message above it: “Sorry you’re still single!”

 _She means well…_ he thought, taking a steadying breath. _She means well…_ He opened the card. He didn’t know how they’d managed it, but it was even worse on the inside… The left page was completely covered in red and pink hearts, with one large red one in the middle. And on the right hand page was written the message: “WE STILL LOVE YOU DOUGIE! Love From Mum and Dad.” Signed with five kisses and even more hearts.

“I-” his voice was shaking from the strain of keeping his anger under control. “-thanks.” He finally managed to say. His parents smiled at him.

“Open your present, son.” His father said. Douglas sighed inwardly as he pulled open the small bag. Inside was a small collection of toy vehicles. Each was red. There were two cars, a van, a truck, a boat and a plane. The plane and boat were admittedly white with red stripes but Douglas could see the theme. He sighed, a small but genuine smile gracing his features as he looked at the small Lockheed Mcdonnel.

“Thanks.” He said earnestly, but he still had to force himself to reciprocate when his mother pulled him into a tight hug. Human contact wasn’t on his list of _“things I want to do today”_.

“Want something to eat, son?” his Dad asked. _Eating isn’t on that list either…_ he thought to himself.

“Uh, no thanks Dad. I think I’ll just go back to bed now…” he replied.

“Okay.” His Mother said with yet another smile. At least she seemed to understand that he was in no mood to spend a day with his parents.

He forced one final smile before he turned and returned the way he came, hurrying into his room and slumping back onto his bed. He curled up in the covers.

He just wanted to be alone…


	2. -4

-4

Valentine’s Day again. Douglas was now twenty-five and on his way home from work. It was a menial job, too many hours for too little pay and it bored him to tears. But it paid the bills while he studied for his CPL. He’d only just started it, but he was determined.

He pulled up outside the small terrace hour he shared with his wife, Jennifer. He stepped out of the car and ran into the house as quickly as he could to avoid the rain. Somehow, it still managed to drench him in that small amount of time though. He groaned. Stupid weather. It wa that kind of rain… It looked like simple drizzle… _Nope!_ It was a torrential downpour in disguise, the kind that was like having a bucket of water thrown over you, which you only realised later on was freezing cold

Douglas ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking it out a little. “Douglas! You’re home.” Came the cheerful voice of his wife and the man in question stepped out of the small porch, and into the main hall. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss his cheek. He smiled at her, wrapping his own arms around her small waist. “Oh, darling! You’re soaked!” she cried. Douglas sighed.

“I know.”

“Hurry and get changed, dinner is almost ready!” she said sweetly. Douglas forced a smile. They had exchanged gifts this morning, and now it was time for the ‘romantic night in’. _Oh God_. He was too tired for this… Jennifer turned and walked quickly into the kitchen. Douglas ran a hand through his hair again, before he went upstairs to get changed.

They’d been together for seven years… married five. This was meant to be something to look forward to, a chance to relax after a long day at work.

It wasn’t.

It was a chore, a stress. It was omething he didn’t want to do. It was annoying. Jennifer didn’t know he felt that way. He’d thought it would pass… Who the hell was he kidding?

Dinner passed in silence. To Jennifer, it seemed normal, comfortable. To Douglas it was awkward, dull. He didn’t want to be here…

After dinner, they went into the living room. Douglas went to the pano, and Jennifer sat down on the sofa. He began to play; soft, romantic, wordless melodies. He lost himself in the music, but couldn’t banish Jennifer’s presence; the knowledge he wasn’t alone. He wished she weren’t there.

He just wanted to be alone…


	3. -3

-3

Valentine’s Day. Douglas was in his mid-thirties, and she was nagging again. Bloody woman.

It went in one ear and out the other, and he didn’t even register what she was talking about this time. Something stupid. The bins, the washing up, the garden…

Sandra Richardson; his second wife. God she could shout… and talk… and nag… He hated her now. Two years together of constantly telling himself it would get better. She was pregnant. He couldn’t leave. It wasn’t that simple. Not like it had been with Jennifer.

He came back to Earth as the usual tears of anger began to roll down her cheeks. _Bloody hormones…_ he sighed, wrapping his arms around her. He ignored the dull ache as she pounded his chest, before she sank into the embrace, staining his shirt with tears. He soothed her, hushed her, stroked her hair.

It was all empty.

He led her through into the living room and turned on the TV. They both settled onto the sofa and Douglas pulled Sandra closer to his side, and automatic reflex. Whatever was on the TV, he didn’t pay attention to it. He just focussed on not voicing his boredom, his anger, his hatred of _this_ , whatever _this_ was…

Sandra was soon asleep, but Douglas knew that if he moved her, she would wake up, and it would all start over again. So he stayed still, staring at the TV in silence, and sipping his wine slowly. He had to make it last, since he couldn’t go and get more…

He was bored and sick of this. He didn’t want to comfort her. He didn’t want to pretend her cared…

He just wanted to be alone.


	4. -2

-2

Valentine’s Day, aged 43. Douglas was sat in a pub, with an orange juice. He’d stopped drinking two years ago, one year after his divorce from Sandra. She’d chucked him out, sick of his drinking. _It was her fault I was drinking in the first place…_ He had been a bit glad to get out of the relationship. Unfortunately, the freedom came with one very large drawback. He couldn’t see his daughter.

He stared into the glass of orange juice. He didn’t really know why he was here. It was noisy, and that was swiftly giving his a headache.

He’d had several people come on to him. Mostly women; all drunk. He was sick of women though; stroppy, hormonal creatures, all hopeless romantics. He know if he went with any of them he wouldn’t get a stress-reducing, no-strings one-night stand… He’d get a show of “undying” love and worship, a desperate plea for a date, and he’d have to break a heart. But with a man…

As he was thinking this, a drunk young lad, in his mid-twenties by the looks of it, came sauntering over to sit beside Douglas. The ‘boy’ immediately started flirting. _Hm… It has been a while._ Douglas though. It had really, since he’d been with a man. A few boyrfriends in between Jennifer and Sandra, but nothing long term, and only a couple of ‘nights of passion’. It couldn’t hurt.

They went back to Steve’s place (that was his name, though Douglas had not divulged his own). It was quick. Douglas was on top.

It didn’t take long for Steve to fall asleep. Douglas cringed and rolled from the bed quietly, quickly pulling on his clothes before slipping out of the gat. It hadn’t been quite what he expected.

He looked up at the moon, or lack thereof. A new moon. A new start… _Sorry Steve._ Douglas thought as he walked away. He couldn’t stay there.

He just wanted to be alone.


	5. -1

-1

Valentine’s Day. Douglas was nearing 50 now, and beginning to feel the creeping feeling of time catching up to him. Helena was curled up on the sofa next to him, staring at the TV. They’d put titanic on. Douglas hated the blasted movie, a ridiculous romanticisation of a real-life tragedy. But Helena liked it; loved it even, and lately she’d been so distant, he wanted to make her happy again. He wanted his Helena back…

Because he just couldn’t shake the feeling in his stomach that something had changed. Something in the air between them… Maybe it had just been a bad day… Yeah, that was it. It must be…

But she wasn’t looking at him, she hadn’t all night. She was curled up on the opposite side of the sofa and if he tried to shrink the distance between them she would push him away, usually a little rougher than strictly necessary.

Eventually Douglas simply gave up, standing and making for the door. She looked at him silently. _First time tonight…_ he thought bitterly.

“I’m tired, I’m going to bed. You can finish the movie.” He muttered. She nodded, seeming not to care, and turned back to the movie. Douglas sighed in relief. He loved her very much, but when she was like this (which was becoming more and more frequent)… it was simply too much.

He just wanted to be alone.


	6. 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still half an hour until tomorrow! My promise has not been broken XD  
> I'm useless, sorry... <3  
> (P.S. this story is un-betaed (sp?))

0

Valentine’s Day… Fifty-One years old. Nearly a year and a half since Helena left him for that damn Tai-Chi teacher, and he was alone. The divorce had gone through a while ago, and he’d been glad. Good riddance to the bloody woman… But he was painfully single now. Alone in his flat. Bitterly alone. It lacked the grandeur of his house with Helena, but he liked it that way. Simple, but comfortable. He had his piano, and a nice double bed.. Okay, that did rub it in a little bit.

He’d long since got over Helena… He’d already started to before he’d even found out she was cheating on him, though it was unintentional and without his knowledge it the time. He hadn’t meant to, or wanted to… But he had, and there was certainly nothing to do about it now.

Douglas reclined a bit more in his chair. This was horrendous. He shouldn’t feel so damn _lonely_. This may have been the first Valentine’s day for at least 30 years that he was finally alone, and he hated it… Last year he’d gone out again and got with a man… It hadn’t particularly satisfied him per-say, but it was the best he could do to dull the ache in his chest. Although, come to think of it, the ache had been worse in the morning than it had been the night before… So perhaps he’d done something wrong.

Of course, then he hadn’t known of his feelings… Stupid things. Now he did, and he knew full-well that having another one-night stand would only make it worse.

There was only one person he wanted… But Douglas knew it was almost impossible for them to feel the same. And even if they had at some point decided they liked him, he’d probably put them off with the constant stream of sarcastic (and often cruel) jokes, they never seemed to go down well after all… He sighed. _Damn you…_ he thought venomously. _Why did I have to fall for you of all people?_ It really wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to be alone. Not this time.

He just wanted someone to sit with, no need for romance… His head snapped up. Perfect! Okay, not perfect… But certainly plausible. There was no way he’d be on a date… Martin Crieff didn’t _get_ dates. Douglas always teased him about it, but truth be told he’d never truly understood it… Martin was very likeable, and quite attractive… However, he did usually manage to give terrible first impressions. Douglas knew from experience that one wrong word can end any chances of a date… And Martin always found it. If he was honest with himself though, Douglas was absolutely overjoyed that Martin couldn’t get a date… Not that he’d ever admit that to Martin.

Douglas pushed himself out of his chair, and went to the phone. He scrolled lazily down the contacts list. _Ah ha!_

The phone seemed to dial for an age until finally, Martin’s voice came down the phone. He sounded half asleep, and Douglas had to pinch himself to stay focused. Martin was so _cute_ when he was tired…

“Hello?” came his groggy, but still remarkably nervous voice.

“Hello, Martin.” Douglas said. He almost heard Martin stiffen on the other end…

“D-douglas?” he stuttered, confused.

“Yes. Don’t you have caller ID?”

“Yeah… But I don’t l-look at it!”

“Ah… Martin… did I just wake you up?”

“Uh… y-yes.” He replied sheepishly. Douglas chuckled to himself.

“Martin, it’s nearly noon.”

“I… I didn’t have a reason to get up…” Martin muttered.

“No van jobs?” Douglas asked, and realising the moment it slipped from his mouth that he’d totally forgotten that as a possibility…

“No. Everyone is too busy with their _other halves_ …” Martin spat. “I hate Valentine’s Day…”

“Goodness me, why?” Douglas asked.

“Well, I call it ‘Singles Awareness Day’… SAD… It’s the day when everyone else decides to rub it in my face how I’m bitterly single, and have been in such a state for well over ten years now!” Martin babbled exasperately.

“Ah, of course. Sorry.” Douglas replied, forcing as much of the sincerity he still owned into his voice as he could.

“S-sorry about that…” Martin muttered.

“Don’t worry about it. As I’m sure you know,  am in much the same boat.”

“Yes, sorry.”

“Please, stop apologising…” Douglas growled impatiently. Martin was silent. “Thank you. Now, given we are both in the same depressing situation… I thought perhaps we could do something.” He paused to allow Martin to realise he was allowed to speak.

“W-what?” Martin spluttered, and Douglas could practically hear the blush rising in his Captain’s cheeks. As much as he liked being the reason for that, he realised he had chosen the completely wrong words…

“Ah. Perhaps I worded that wrong.” He muttered. “I simply meant we could have a bit of a bachelors comfort day…” he paused. “That didn’t sound much better did it?”

“I-I know what you mean! Martin stammered out, before Douglas could spend the next hour trying to word it correctly.

“Good. So, what do you say?” the silence that followed felt like it dragged on for hours, though in reality it was only mere seconds.

“I, uh… I suppose there’s no harm.” Martin said at last. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lunch?” _or brunch for you_ , he thought with a chuckle.

“Sure.”

“See you at one?”

“Uh, okay…”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Oh, okay.”

“See you in an hour.”

“See you…” and Douglas put the phone down. Perfect. No, no perfect… But good.

After a moment, Douglas managed to move, and went to change. He could hardly go out in his pyjamas…

One hour later and he was outside Parkside Terrace. He felt an odd pain at the sight of the dilapidated place; emotional pain. An airline Captain should not have to live in such a dump… Martin especially did not deserve it.

Said Captain came out of the door, wearing a far-too-baggy t-shirt which was light blue with what appeared to be a hand-drawn airplane on the front in a darker blue, and a pair of slightly torn jeans. He looked adorable, and Douglas smiled. However, judging from Martin’s reaction, it must have come out a little intimidating, because Martin could barely grimace back as he got in.

“Hello…” he murmured. Douglas was a little confused (and hurt) at the terrified tone in his friend’s voice (he assumed Martin thought they were friends too), but he continued to smile.

“Hello, Martin.”

“So w-where are we going?” Martin asked.

“I was hoping you might decide that.” Douglas said, looking briefly at Martin as he started the engine again.

“Oh… why?”

“Because all I know is _Sushi_ Restaurants…” Douglas muttered dryly.

“Oh. I don’t mind sushi.” Martin said. Douglas sighed.

“Choose.”

Martin shuffled for a moment, uncomfortable. “I don’t go out much…” he whispered awkwardly.

“You must know somewhere.”

“Well, there is this one place… But it’s… expensive.”

“Don’t worry, I’m paying.”

“WHAT!? N-no! I have to pay my part, Douglas!”

“No, you don’t.”

“But-”

“Where is it?”

“Douglas I-”

“ _Where is it?_ ” he repeated sternly. Martin withdrew into himself a little bit, giving in.

“Turn left at the end of the road…” he said meekly. Douglas started the engine and followed Martin’s instructions diligently for ten minutes until they drew up to it and into the small car park. It was a quaint little place, with a hand-crafted dark-wood sign. The name was carbed in golden flowing letters: _“The Fitton Crystal”_.

“Interesting name…” Douglas drawled sarcastically.

“Shut up, it’s nice.” Martin snapped, seeming to have forgotten the fact that he wasn’t paying for a moment. “Caitlin likes to come here when we meet up… Even though that is rare…” he muttered.

“Really?” Douglas was a little surprised the siblings met up. Martin had always made it seem like they didn’t get on… “Does she pay?” he added, genuinely curious.

“N-no… She gives me a few weeks notice so I can save up…” Martin muttered.

“Ah.”

“I can usually only afford a starter and dessert, but it’s better than what I eat at home.” H said. Douglas stared at him.” I’ll just have a starter today. I don’t want to take your money.”

“Martin. I want to pay, okay?” _it makes it feel more like a date…_ he added in his head.

“I don’t want you to. It’s unfair.”

“How is it?”

“I don’t… It just is!” Douglas groaned.

“Please.” He said. Martin’s head snapped up from the spot he’d been staring at in order to, instead, stare at Douglas.  “Please let me pay for you. And _please_ ” - he emphasised the word – “let it be for all three courses.” He stared Martin in the face, a sincerity he’d almost forgotten returning to his eyes for the first time in well over 25 years. Martin’s eyes were wide, shock and confusion clouding his eyes with a mist of tears which he swiftly blinked away. _“Please.”_ Douglas reinforced. Martin remained silent. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and Douglas couldn’t help but compare him to a fish.

After a long while, Martin finally managed to whisper: “Why?”

“What?”

“Why…? Why do you want to pay for me so much?”

“Because” – _tell the truth… No!_ – “you’re my friend, and you need to eat properly. If you pay you won’t eat anything.” _That sounds like a total lie, even in my voice!_

“Really?” he sounded sceptical, and Douglas gulped. He was transparent to Martin… He knew it, felt it. But perhaps Martin would just let it slide…? “Douglas…” It appeared not. “Usually you’re the best liar in the world, but that was like one of Arthur’s lies…”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad!” Douglas blurted defensively. _Oops…_

“So it _was_ a lie!” Martin said triumphantly, very proud of himself for catching Douglas out. Douglas cringed. “So really… why?”

“Is it really that important?”

“Yes.”

“I just,” – _think very carefully about this_ – “I just want to buy you lunch, okay? Is there something wrong with that?” _Please be the (lovable) idiot you are a don’t join the dots I just presented to you…_

But that was where Douglas was out of luck. Martin’s eyes widened in realisation and a blush swept across his face. Douglas’ heart sank like a two-tonne brick.

“You… No, you couldn’t… You don’t mean…?” _Bugger… he’s figured it out… Oh well, the game’s up. Better quite while you’re ahead, Douglas. Lying now is a bad idea._ Douglas sighed, looking away from Martin.

“Yes, Martin… I didn’t invite you out just because… Well, just because I was bored, or even just because I was lonely… Nor was it because I thought you needed better food… Though granted, the latter is a valid point.” He rambled, he hands gripping the steering wheel in a vice-grip as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

“But… no, I must be misunderstanding or something…”

“Martin, is it really so difficult to believe!?” Douglas yelled, far louder than he’d intended.

“Yes! I-if you’re talking about what I th-think you’re talking about…” Martin replied, tripping over his words as doubt clouded his mind as usual. Douglas took a deep, steading breath.

“Martin. I care about you. Does that spell it out enough? I was a fool to think I could hide it on Valentine’s Day of all days, even from you… It would appear my luck has finally run out, hm?” he said with a sad chuckle. He felt the pressure in his eyes of forming tears, but pushed them back.

“So… you… you… but… me? Really?”

“Yes! For goodness’ sake, yes!” Douglas cried exasperatedly, causing Martin to flinch.

“S-sorry. I just… Nobody ever… I mean, I don’t… I’m not… Oh this is coming out all wrong!” Martin stammered, letting his head fall into his hands.

“Calm down, Martin. I understand.” Douglas said with no emotion. “You don’t feel the same. Of course you don’t. Why would you? I’ll just take you home… I’m so sorry about this.” There was a moment of complete silence, before Douglas started the engine back up, a cold mist snaking its way through his entire body.

“W-wait, what!?” Martin finally cried, snapping out of his trauma.

“A bit slow to react there, Martin… I’m taking you home. I never should have called you; it was stupid.”

“N-no… Before.”

“How you don’t feel the same?”

“Yes… How do you know?

“Huh?”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same?” Martin seemed to have gained a small amount of confidence, eliminating his usual stutter.

“Oh, honestly Martin! Look at you, and then look at me. You’re a young, attractive airline captain, and I’m an old failed pilot…”

“You’re not.” Martin retorted, his voice not faltering.

“I am.”

“No. You’re a smarmy Sky God, who had a shocking lack of confidence in his ability to woo incompetent captains…” he trailed off, sheepish, as his confidence slipped again as his confession.

“Oh?”

“Well I-I mean… I… Um…” Martin stuttered. _So adorable! No… Stop that, Douglas…_  Martin was turned away now, but Douglas could see the bright blush lighting up his Captain’s face.

“Martin?”

“I… well… I’m not completely… against the idea?” he muttered.

“Martin, what are you saying?” Douglas asked quietly. He had to tread carefully. A spark of hope had ignited in his heart, pushing the cold mist away… _Don’t screw this up, Richardson._

“I’m saying… I… I might… I quite like you.. and we… We could try? I-if you wanted to of course. I-I mean… we could see how it goes?”

“You really- you’d be willing to try?”

“Well… yes. I don’t get many propositions, as you know… W-who am I to turn down the chance at something with the one person I actually want to be with?” the confidence was back, and Douglas smiled warmly, and this time, Martin smiled back with the same warmth.

“Well then, shall we?” Douglas asked, turning the engine off again. Martin nodded, still smiling brightly. “I’m paying.”

“But-”

“Martin, I think we should establish right now that you are the more feminine of the two of us, and that make _me_ the bill-payer.”

Martin sighed in defeat. “Fine.

“Wonderful! Let’s go.” Douglas said with a gri, before he stepped out of the car, walking around to Martin’s side and taking his Captain’s hand as he locked the car. He felt a warmth spreading from their clasped hands that spread through his entire body.

He wasn’t alone.


End file.
